


It all ends with beginnings

by leiascully



Series: A Thousand And One Nights [10]
Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Cohabitation, Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:03:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt makes Alex a proposition she doesn't want to refuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It all ends with beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: in the vague future, after Matt's done with Who  
> A/N: Thread count should be important to everyone.   
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction that bears no resemblance to and claims no knowledge of the people about whom it is written.

"I told you these were nice sheets," Matt murmurs, nuzzling Alex's ear as he pulls the duvet over them. They're both breathing hard, a little bit sweaty, and _extremely_ satisfied.

"And you were so right," she tells him, pushing her hair back out of her face "I'm a little amazed, to be honest. But somehow you always manage to amaze me."

"I know things!" he objects, rolling over for long enough to clean himself up as she admires the planes of his back. "I know loads of things. Even about linens and things. In fact, I think there's a whole store devoted to them. Linens and...things, you know. Anyway, I know about _sheets_. It isn't as if I don't sleep."

"I know you sleep, darling," she says, pulling him back toward her for a kiss. "I didn't know you were paying attention to thread counts while you did it."

"I know quality when I see it," he says, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. He smiles at her and it's the sweetest thing she's ever seen.

"Likewise," she tells him. She reaches up to stroke his face. He closes his eyes and leans into her touch.

"So what do you think, Ms Kingston?" he says. "New sheets. New bed. New flat. You and me."

"I like it," she says. "All of it. This. Us."

"Did you ever think it could be this way?" he murmurs. 

"What, recently?" she asks. "Because I rather hoped it would be this way, during the whole process of finding and buying this place. Otherwise I would have been more than a little upset with you."

"Before," he amends. "Before any of it."

"Not even in my very wildest dreams," Alex tells him.

"Oooh, Ms Kingston," Matt says in his sultry voice. "You'll have to tell me all about these wildest dreams."

"From before?" she asks. "Well. They're a bit racy, I'm afraid."

"Tell me more," he murmurs, cuddling closer. 

"You and I," she breathes. "One night we were out, or one day we'd just wrapped a scene, or one morning you came over as we were getting to the set, and you looked deep into my eyes and said...."

"What did I say?" he asks in a husky voice.

"You said, 'Alex, love, I've been waiting so long to ask you this.'"

"Yeah?" he prompted.

She sighs wistfully. "You said, 'Alex, I couldn't possibly wait another minute to say it...do you want a cup of tea?'"

He groans and she grins at him. "And you said yes, you bad girl?"

"Of course I said yes," she says primly. "I never turn down a cup of tea."

"And that was your wildest dream, was it?" he demands.

"That would be telling," she says, "but we've fulfilled all of those, so we might as well move on to new ones."

He falls back onto the pillows. Their pillows, which is a lovely idea, she thinks. Their bed. Properly theirs, bought together and shared from the beginning. They bickered a little over the bed set, compromising on something neutral with leaf details. It was deeply enjoyable, somehow. They sold anything else they had around and bought new things together. They have their dishes now, and their silverware, and their furniture. The only things from their previous flats are a few pieces of art and their clothes. She feels brand new. It's as if all of her past mistakes have been redeemed by this good thing they've made together, this safe and beautiful space between them. She thinks - she hopes - he feels the same. After all, he's nearly glowing with happiness, or perhaps the freshness of his face is related to the recent christening of the bed, which is now truly theirs.

"So what now?" he says.

"We keep buggering on, don't we?" she says. "Sal will be here for a bit, and then it's back to school for her. We'll take jobs where we can get them and be together as often as we can."

"And that'll be enough?" he asks, not looking at her. 

She leans over until she can catch his eye. "There's never any guarantee that it's enough, darling. But this is you and me. I think we're enough. Don't you?"

"You're stronger than me," he tells her. "I'll just mope about in my trailer if we're apart, eating pot noodle and mooning over my phone."

"Nonsense," she says briskly. "Besides, get a few movies lined up and you'll definitely be able to afford a plane ticket, won't you? You can come to me or I'll come to you." She nudges him. "Haven't we made it this far, Mister Smith?"

"Haven't we," he murmurs, picking up her hand and kissing it. He sets her hand down gently and rolls over, rummaging through the night stand.

"Goodness, already?" she says. "I'm not sure I'm quite ready for round two. It's all still a bit sensitive."

"That sounds ideal to me," he teases, his voice a little muffled, "but that's not what I'm after." He rolls back over, one hand in a loose fist. 

"What have you got?" she asks. "It hasn't got legs, has it?"

"Don't freak out," he says. "Okay? Just...don't freak out."

"Oh my god, it's got legs," she says, sitting up and scooting back until her back is against the headboard. She pulls the duvet up over her body, huddling under it.

"It hasn't got legs," he says. "Hold out your hand."

She turns up her palm and he drops something in it. It sparkles. Her fingers close over it automatically before her eyes can really process it.

"Matt..." she says. 

He clears his throat. "I want to be very, very clear about this. I am _not_ asking you to marry me."

"Good," she says through the ache in her throat, a sweet hot tightness that catches at her words. "Because I'm finished with that."

"I know," he says. "So I'm asking you to not-marry me. No ceremony. No legally binding papers, unless I have to sign something for you to come see me in hospital. No stress. Just us. And if you want to walk away, all you have to do is say the word."

"And if you want to walk away, I suppose," she says.

He shakes his head and smiles a little. "I won't. I've made my choice."

"You'll have to choose it again, every day," she cautions. 

"Haven't I been, Scheherazade?" he teases, brushing his hair out of his face. "I earned my tomorrows, remember, ever since the very first night. I'll keep earning them. But I thought it might be nice to be officially unofficial. Or unofficially official. Very French, you know, _très sophistiqué_ to be not-married." He looks at her with eyes so full of love that she nearly gasps. "So, Ms Kingston? What do you think?""

Her throat is too tight now to let any words through, so she leans forward and kisses him, one hand cupping his face, her mouth frantic to communicate all the things she can't say. He returns her kiss with equal fervour, pulling her into his arms. They hold each other so tightly that for a moment she can barely breathe, but she doesn't want to let go. Eventually she does, and then she laughs.

"This definitely doesn't look like an engagement ring."

"Well, it's not," he says. "That's the point, yeah?"

"It's beautiful," she says, trying it on. It slides around on her ring finger but fits perfectly on the middle finger of her left hand, and she holds it up for his appreciation.

"Gorgeous," he says softly, looking at her. "So that's a yes?"

"Of course it's a yes," she tells him. "I'm always saying yes to you."

"Just let me know if that changes," he teases her. 

"You're not escaping that easily, Smith," she says. "We've got furniture now. But I think this definitely calls for a celebration."

"I do, by pure coincidence, have a bottle of Veuve Cliquot in the fridge," he says with a wink. 

"You clever man," she says. "Champagne first, and then I think this bed needs a little more work before it's truly broken in."

"God, I love you," he tells her, and finally, finally, Alex can almost believe in happily-ever-after.

**Author's Note:**

> [This remarkable piece of bling](http://www.ross-simons.com/products/817395.html) is Alex's ring. It reminded me of Matt's comment about loving that kiss with River when she was so flowery and camp. If you drink fancy champagne, please consider buying Veuve Cliquot, because it's the only vineyard owned by a woman (and it's delicious). That's all for this series! Thanks for reading!


End file.
